


Psychosomatic

by Chanonvic



Category: Karneval (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Headcanon, I thought way too hard about everyone's jobs, If You Squint - Freeform, Ironically no spoilers, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, light shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanonvic/pseuds/Chanonvic
Summary: He kept tabs on the others. At first, it had been for safety purposes, so convinced he was that some remnant of Kafka survived, some shred of Varuga genetic material could contaminate its next victim any week now. After a few months of uneventfulness, Gareki's anxiety melted into concern, and then curiosity, and finally affection.
Relationships: Gareki/Yogi (Karneval)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Psychosomatic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drbubblegum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drbubblegum/gifts), [Dudette_Mal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dudette_Mal/gifts).



> psychosomatic (adj): caused or aggravated by a mental factor such as internal conflict or stress.

Gareki had moved in with Nai and Karoku, not because he had to – he made more than enough from his med research job that he could afford his own place and then some. He'd done it because Nai had asked, simple as that. Karoku didn't look like he hated the idea, so there he was, living in a room down the hall from the other two.

It was quaint, he'd admit to himself when he was alone in said bedroom, tucked under covers and listening to the distant voices, one excited and quick, the other gentle and patient. Both happy. Sometimes it reminded him of being back on the Airship. (Sometimes it reminded him of the twins.) He'd never admit it in the light of day, but he let those voices lull him to sleep, inwardly laughing at the irony of Karoku chiding Nai to keep his voice down because _Gareki’s sleeping_.

Gareki had less trouble admitting that he kept tabs on the others. At first, it had been for safety purposes, so convinced he was that some remnant of Kafka survived, some shred of Varuga genetic material could contaminate its next victim any week now. After a few months of uneventfulness, Gareki's anxiety melted into concern, and then curiosity, and finally affection. (There, he'd said it.) It was...nice to know what everyone was up to, how they were using their skills now that the government had no need for them.

Like himself, Tsubame and Kiichi weren't satisfied with returning to mundane life. They'd all seen too much, _done_ too much, to turn away now, so they returned to government work, eagerly bouncing around as their superiors scrambled to find something meaningful for them to do without raising too many questions. Gareki thought it painfully funny that, for as much researching and building as Circus had done, they had no clear exit or transition strategy. Maybe they hadn't expected Kafka to ever be defeated. Maybe they had expected all the combatants to die in battle.

Eventually, Tokitatsu took it upon himself to place not only former Circus members in similar roles but also redirect some Kuronomei courses accordingly. Gareki strongly suspected that Tokitasu's involvement was why Hirato didn't return to government work, too. The four-eyed bastard all but disappeared, the only clue to his whereabouts coming in the form of holographic postcards with empty greetings like "Missing you" and "Be good." They delighted Nai, confused Karoku, and irritated Gareki. Still, he saved them, figuring that he'd piece together the mystery of Hirato's activities someday.

The other former Captain was much easier to track down. Tsukitachi had opened a bar in a prominent city, surprising no one. Gareki and the others had made it a point to visit when it first opened, and they all celebrated their new lives – or mourned their old ones, Gareki still isn't sure which, especially when a certain someone started ugly crying about how much he'd miss everyone.

Like Tsukitachi, most of the others were easy to track. Jiki had started a private investigation office, which Kiichi occasionally worked for to relieve some boredom. Tsukumo and Eva joined an actual circus, becoming instant stars. Tsukumo had even introduced the company to her disappearing mermaid trick. (Even knowing how it worked didn't ruin the spectacle, Gareki thought when he and Karoku took Nai to see a show.) Dr. Akari began his tenure at some prestigious university and offered Karoku an assistantship. Ranji was appointed Assistant Director of a data analytics sect in the government, and she immediately hired Sesiri. Shishi worked for an engineering firm. Even Nai had moved on, starting formal schooling.

And then there was Yogi.

Even though Nai was getting older – he'd grown an inch or two, his voice was starting to crack with puberty, and his metabolism had skyrocketed – Gareki still caught him watching children's shows. Most of the time, Gareki would tease him from behind the couch before moving on to whatever he had left his room to do. But occasionally, with one particular show, Gareki was quiet. At first, he would stand in a corner and watch, out of Nai's field of view, but Karoku caught him doing it more than once, so to save face, he would just plop down on the couch next to Nai pretending he had been bored enough to spend quality time with the Niji.

 _The Adventures of Nyanperowna_ aired three days a week after school, with reruns on weekends. Gareki knew this because the moment the first episode aired, he'd looked up the schedule to add it to his information bank, his logic brain insisting that it was to keep tabs on _everyone_.

Gareki knew about the show, they all did, Yogi wouldn't shut up about it. Apparently, some big-time producers had cornered him after a show, back when he worked with Eva and Tsukumo, to make him a deal. Thankfully, Yogi had had the sense to think it over first instead of agreeing on the spot. Of course, "think over" meant calling everyone up to chat about it, ask them each their opinion, and crying to Gareki that he felt guilty leaving his former comrades behind. Gareki had told him to think about himself for once.

And thus, Yogi signed the deal.

Gareki didn't take credit for it; he instead pretended that he hadn't cared about the show's premiere, that he really meant it when he griped at Nai to change the channel, that his stomach didn't tighten a little when he heard Nyanperowna speak directly to the live audience in that _ridiculous voice_. This all made it easier to ignore how content it made him to catch these glimpses into Yogi's post-Circus life.

Of course, the three tickets sitting on the kitchen table one day punctured that illusion like a needle. He blinked a few times, reading and rereading the words "audience guest" and "live taping" and "backstage pass" incredulously.

"Got them this morning," Karoku said from where he was poking his head into the room. "The others received them, too, apparently."

Gareki glanced at him. "They're for tomorrow night," he said for lack of anything better to say.

"They are, which is perfect. Since it's not a school night, Nai can stay up late and go." Karoku smiled fondly at the thought and walked away, leaving Gareki with his still-foggy thoughts. He spent a few more moments wondering why that knot was back in his stomach before deciding he had better things to do and leaving, the hunger that brought him to the kitchen originally forgotten.

He'd managed to ignore the tension in his stomach through the night and most of the following morning, forcing himself to eat breakfast with his living companions to keep up the guise of normalcy. Gareki didn't even choke much when the show invitations were brought up.

"I'm so excited!" Nai said. "It's been so long since we saw Yogi, and we get to see Nyanperowna in action, too!"

As Karoku began explaining the concepts of special effects to the kid, Gareki did his level best to shut out the conversation. It was bad enough that his chest started to tighten, too. Maybe he was coming down with something. He'd have to get looked at as soon as he could.

It was on this train of thought he slammed down his fork and stood up, announcing, "I'm done, I'm heading to work," as he left the table.

"You're fine," Kiichi declared after a questionably quick scan of his vitals at Gareki's request. "And anyway, you're _never_ sick."

"Which is why I had you check," Gareki muttered. Though she was no medic, she could spot a serious impairment like the best of them, so Gareki went to her first, not wanting to bother his seniors with something admittedly trivial.

"Count yourself lucky," Kiichi continued, "you won't miss the show tonight because of poor health." She waved away Gareki's questioning look. "Yeah, I got a ticket, too, although I won't make it. Jiki already asked me to help him with a case." She frowned a little. "Tell Yogi we'll make it up to him," she said in a slightly softer tone.

And before he could respond, Kiichi left the room. After that, Gareki threw himself into his work, ignoring his weak stomach and traitorous heart in favor of poring over research write ups and data samples. While this kept his mind occupied, it also had the unintended side effect of speeding time forward, meaning that he hadn't registered that he was done for the day until Tsubame knocked on his door.

"You're going to show, right?" she asked rhetorically, and all the weird sensations he'd been neglecting came rushing back full force, this time accompanied by dry-mouth. What was happening to him? He _must_ have been coming down with something, regardless of what Kiichi said. Maybe it was something novel, something even the government's advanced tests couldn't detect. If that were the case, then maybe he should skip the show and turn himself over to the other medics so they could – "Gareki?" Tsubame tried again. She lay a hand on his shoulder, then took it back when he flinched.

"What? Yeah," he replied finally. He made a show of putting his things away to hide the sudden onset of nerves. Nonetheless, Tsubame gave him a scrutinizing look.

"Okay," she said slowly, "good. I was wondering if I could go home with you, then, so we can all head over to the studio together." The smile and earnestness returned to her face, so he couldn't deny her.

"Sure." And like that they were on their way.

Bringing Tsubame along turned out to be a good idea. She and Nai chatted away excitedly while Karoku inserted an amused comment here and there – meaning that Gareki could keep to himself. That he could hide the symptoms of the nameless disease he was contracting.

The studio was far grander than anything Gareki could imagine a children's show being taped in. Tsukumo and Eva spotted their group, having arrived minutes before them, and after a round of enthusiastic greetings and hugs, they all entered the building. The lobby was plushily carpeted and bright. The walls were lined with posters and photos of other shows, which Nai and Tsukumo delighted over until they were finally called to be seated in the auditorium. While the others pointed out the set pieces, Gareki ogled the autonomous cameras and blinking screens and row of wireless microphones. It was admirably complex for a television show, much more for a kids' show.

The group was placed in the front row; Gareki had known this, it had said so on the tickets, and yet he couldn't help the lurch in his stomach as he realized he wouldn't have a barrier between him and the show's cast. Sandwiched between Tsukumo and Tsubame, he slouched as far in his seat as he could while they waited for the rest of the audience members to file in. He barely registered the kid kicking his chair behind him, so focused he was on hiding his nerves even as he obsessed over them. There was some chubby guy who explained to the audience when they were supposed to laugh and clap, but Gareki hardly paid him any attention. There was a warm-up magician who captivated all the children (and, surprisingly, Tsubame), but he tuned out halfway through the performance.

Finally, the lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. The lights on the set brightened, and the cameras and microphones whirred to life, moving into their marked places with mechanical precision. Gareki could feel the taut anticipation in the large room and kept his eyes laser-focused on the hatch he knew Nyanperowna would leap through. When said mascot did appear, the crowd roared, easily filling the auditorium with the necessary applause for the taping. But Gareki couldn't hear it. Everything had muted, and he could only hear the star of the show, with perfect clarity.

"Nyanperowna's here! Welcome, everyone!" came the eccentric, achingly familiar voice, and Gareki let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. With it, the tension bled out of his body. The knot in his gut loosened, and he was suddenly filled with an emotion akin to _relief_.

Maybe he wasn't sick after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by drbubblegum and Dudette_Mal, who injected so much life into this fandom.


End file.
